Jefferson Starship
by Circus4APsycho8
Summary: Mark Jefferson isn't who he seems. He's not nearly as human, either. A different-ish ending. Spoilers! T for language. THIS IS RANDOM AF


Jefferson Starship

With another grunt, Max tries to pull her frail, now pale wrist out of the rope restricting her movements. To no avail, she continues to fight. She can't let Jefferson dose her again! She would, most likely, forget everything, especially since she was that weak when he had first dosed her. Her mind cloudy, she keeps fighting the restraints. Maybe if she can free her right leg, she could pull the little cart of tools to her right to her? From the angle where she's sitting, she can't quite make out the tools on the table. Well, it'd be better than just sitting here and doing nothing.

Max isn't going down that easily. Especially since Chloe is now dead.

Dead because of Jefferson.

 _Chloe._

With a newfound determination, Max's leg pushes even harder against the restraint. She thinks she can feel its well-tied knot slipping. It's so close to snapping, if she can just pull a little harder. A few seconds later, it finally snaps, the forgotten rope falling to the floor.

Wait-the picture Max had taken with Warren! If she could just get to him, she could go back and prevent all of this from happening! Praying that her rewind power still had a little bit of juice left, she reaches her leg out, scooting herself up as far as she can.

 _Come on, Maxine Caulfield! You're almost there! Just…a little…farther!_

"Nice try, Max," comes that sly, deep voice. Max recoils in the chair, her leg snapping back to its original position, entire body tensing as his light footsteps echo even closer. "You'll have to try a little harder than that if you want to escape. Of course, it won't work." She shudders as he chuckles, waves of disgust rolling down her spine as Mark Jefferson stepped in, his shallow gaze burying itself into Max.

"Don't touch me, psycho!" Max yells, her fists clenching together.

"I won't. Not yet, at least," he informs her with a sigh, turning to the cart Max had been eyeing earlier. He picks up a syringe and a medicine bottle, then slides them onto an aluminum tray. From the second shelf of the cart, he picks up two latex gloves, which he pulls over his hands. Max tenses again, her foggy mind racing to come up with some solution.

"Well, since you're about to die, I guess I ought to tell you truth," he sighs, snapping the bottom of the glove.

"What more is there to tell? You're a freak who drugs, kidnaps, and photographs college girls in an underground bunker," Max snaps.

"Yes, but there's more," Jefferson continues, "I know that there's something more to you, Maxine Caulfield. A lot of things seem to have been going all too well for you, am I wrong? It's odd. There's something about you I can't quite put my finger on. But, lucky for me," he turns around, an unsettling smile on his hipster face, "I don't need to."

He opens his mouth, revealing sets of sharp, spiky teeth in place of normal ones. Max gasps, trying to reel back as far as she possibly can.

"What the fuck are you?!" Max manages to spit out through the rising horror flooding throughout her.

"Some kind of hybrid," he answers through his unnaturally sharp teeth, "and I'm about to test what my bite can do. If you hold still, Max, I'll play nicely and won't dose you. Again."

Max lets a scream loose as the creature comes nearer, attempting to rear back farther, to get away from this hell spawn. He's walking towards her agonizingly slow, edging towards her with a cruel speed, letting her wallow in her fear and hatred.

Then, there's shouting, blurs of color as something new happens. Max watches as three unfamiliar men run into the dark room, one holding a gun, the other a knife, the third unarmed. A familiar blur of blue dashes to Max's side, a pair of fingers wrapping around the ropes limiting Max.

"What-ah, damned Winchesters!" Max hears Jefferson roar somewhere.

"Chloe?!" Max says as the heap of blue hair quickly undoes the knots.

"Yeah, yeah," Chloe states, "I'm supposed to be dead. Just shut up and come with me. You need to get out of here; they'll take care of it."

"Who are they?" Max asks, standing while rubbing at her sore wrists.

"It's a long story," Chloe mutters as one of the men manages to drag his knife across Jefferson's throat. Max watches in horror as the life fades from Jefferson's eyes. The man wearing the trench coat watches too, unfazed by the kill.

"Don't look," Chloe mutters, grabbing Max by the shoulders and turning her around.

"He's dead," Max whispers, images flashing through her mind.

"Are you two okay?" the tall, brown-haired man asks, stepping in front of Jefferson's now-detached head.

"We're fine. Shit, Max, what did that sick fuck do to you?!" Chloe yells.

"He drugged me, took pictures…" Max trails off, unable to continue. "Fuck, I thought you were dead, Chloe!" she cries, hugging Max.

"Oh, the irony," the lighter-haired man states, "we kill a Jefferson Starship named Jefferson."

"It, uh, is kind of fitting," the taller one murmurs.

"What happened?! He shot you in the head!" Max demands, still clinging to Chloe.

"He did, but, that guy right there hella saved my ass," she points at the guy in the trench coat.

"How?! You were dead in a matter of seconds," Max cries.

"You could say, he's our guardian angel," the brown-haired states. He looks around, then sighs. "I'm Sam. This is Dean, my older brother," he points to the light-haired, "and that's Castiel. Our angel. Literally."

"What...what was…what was…" Max points at Jefferson from behind her beloved friend.

"Him? Jefferson Starship. Hybrid between vampire and wraith. Nasty little suckers," Dean answers.

"Were you bitten?" Castiel asks.

"N-no, he was about to. Thank god you guys showed up," Max breathes, closing her eyes for a second. Things could have gotten messy.

"Good. You would've turned into one if he had," Castiel states matter-of-factly.

"The hell is this place?" Sam asks, examining the pictures Jefferson had been in the middle of downloading. "Is that you?"

"Yeah…he was sick," Max replies, shivering.

"Oh god, Max! Let's get out of here, this place is hella creepy," Chloe adds, ushering her shaken friend out of the room.

"Damn," is all Dean can say.


End file.
